All characters appearing in Marvel Comics and Gargoyles & Gargoyles: The Goliath Chronicles are copyright Marvel Entertainment and Walt Disney Company. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are not authorized by the copyright holders.

All characters appearing in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles series are copyright by Murakami Wolf Swenson, Inc. All other TMNT related characters are copyright IDW comics. No infringement of these copyrights is intended, and is not authorized by the copyright holders.

All original characters are the property of Celgress.

West Coast Spider-Man – Prologue

By

Celgress

San Francisco early September 2015, afternoon

I could not believe this was really happening. Here I was Peter Parker small town boy accepted into perhaps the most prestigious computer science program in the entire country. What was more I had already been assigned as a pledge to the vaunted Rom Bios Fraternity. Which boasted such legendary Alumni as Reed Richards, Tony Stark and Bruce Banner along with most ever big wig in the IT industry, even being considered for a membership was a great honor in and of itself if I never progressed further I knew. I was beyond lucky. After years of hardship mine was a dizzying change in fortunes. Somebody pinch me because I must be dreaming.

"Here ya go pal." The bald heavy set cabby in the checkered red & black flannel vest said.

We pulled up in front of a stately mahogany brown Victorian complete with a peaked roof tower on its left side and ocean blue trim set atop a small hillock. Many large widows covered the structure all had tightly drawn white curtains. I noted that the house was conveniently located within easy walking distance of campus.

I paid my fare. After I retrieved my four stuffed travel bags from the trunk I stood in front of my new home drinking in the atmosphere as the yellow cab pulled out of sight. Awkwardly (hey one never knows who could be watching) at first I made my way carefully up the flight of eight concrete steps to the front door situated on an open air porch set between two blue non-fluted Doric columns. I whistled appreciatively. This place was the definition of classy.

With difficulty I found the doorbell, which blended into the blue door frame, and announced my presence to anyone inside. Next I patiently waited and waited and waited. Finally after what seemed like forever but in reality was likely only five minutes at most a guy about my age with sandy blond hair, a goatee and grey eyes answered. He was dressed in an open brown leather jacket, red shirt and grey slacks. In a heavily accented voice he introduced himself as Royce Hochberg a student from Germany. After which he politely asked who I might be.

"Hello Royce my name is Peter Parker." I said. "I'm…"

"Ah yes herr Parker da other new student please come in." Royce said cutting me off in midsentence. He glanced at my heavy load. "Herr Parker allow me to render assistance."

"Thanks," I said handing him the two least heavy bags I had brought. "And please call me Peter."

"Of course," Royce said. "My English is not how you say good yet nor is my understanding of your culture. I apologize if I offended your sensibilities."

"No need," I said following him inside. He shut the door behind us. "Based on what you said earlier I assume you're also a new pledge to Rom Bios?"

"Yes," Royce replied curtly.

We moved quickly through the foyer and up a long spiral staircase. We passed several closed doors before we ascended another shorter staircase. At the top of which was an unlocked door inside was a spacious room with large bay windows on one side covered in familiar white silk curtains. I could tell we were inside the tower I had glimpsed earlier.

"Are we in the tower?" I asked giving voice to my supposition.

"I trust you do not object?" Royce said.

"Actually I like it." I said.

I walked around inspecting my new digs. Other than a mirror mounted above a brown dresser, a brass framed double bed, a good size closet and a brown corner desk with Ethernet & cable hookups there wasn't much to see. It was perfect.

"You are pleased herr Peter?" Royce said with a hint of trepidation evident in his voice. Darn he was timid. Where all Germans like this?

"I am pleased." I said with a wide grin. Royce nodded looking relived. A couple seconds later I was alone unpacking my stuff.

Hours later I was called to the ground floor where I met my other roommates. Because Rom Bios was so exclusive it was by far the smallest such group on campus, in short order I learned the fraternity on average seldom consisted of more than between five and eight members at any given time. At present it was made up of President Miguel O'Hara, Treasurer Steve "Chip" Lockley, ranking member Phillip Chang and soon (hopefully) myself & Royce. I hit it off with all my future fraternity brothers (I crossed my fingers). We shared pretty much every interest, although we were by no means carbon copies of each other which proved a relief.

Miguel O'Hara was an easy going senior from Ireland with an unruly stock of auburn hair and hazel eyes. He was always quick with a witty remark. I'd came to learn Miguel had a mischievous streak or as he would so colorfully put it 'a wee bit of the devil' in him.

Steve "Chip" Lockley was our resident comedian. Always ready with a joke the black haired brown eyed African American's smile was infectious as was his laugh. Apparently he was also a notorious prankster. I knew I'd better stay on my toes around him if I didn't want my secret getting out.

Phillip Chang loved horror movies. In fact the brown haired, black eyed Asian American with way to much gel in his spikey hair (or so I thought, but hey who am I to judge I sling around on webs) owned a complete collection of Movie Manic figurines, how cool.

The only other person present was Miguel's long-time girlfriend Cindy Moon a student from South Korea. Cindy was majoring in physics with her eye on becoming an astronomer someday. The petit Cindy with her deep drown eyes and mid-back length mane of straight black hair could talk your ear off when subjects such as stellar phenomena or life on other planets came up. She certainly was very passionate about his chosen field.

We talked long into the night. We touched many subjects during the course of our conversation from the trivial to the profound. These people were great. I could get use to this.

We discussed so much stuff in fact I almost forgot about Mary Jane not being here, almost. I hoped Miguel knew how lucky he was to have a girlfriend who loved and had stuck by him apparently for years now. I watched Cindy snuggle into Miguel with more than a twinge of envy.

Best forget the past. Concentrate on the future. Mary Jane wasn't coming back. Sooner I accepted that fact and stopped pining over her better off I'd be.

San Francisco Station

Juan "Blaze" Reyes, nicknamed Blaze due to his passion for racing and often crashing motorcycles due in part to reckless stunts, departed from the last train to arrive that evening. He wiped perspiration from his brown skinned brow. It was an uncharacteristically muggy night in the bay area. He desperately hoped and prayed he'd made the right decision coming here. At high school graduated in May the East Los Angeles native with his trademark red streaked mohawk of black hair, black bomber jacket adored with silver chains & spikes and black leather pants had won a much sought after scholarship to attend Sanford University.

At first Juan had been reluctant to leave behind his parents who had insisted he follow his dreams. His developmentally challenged brother Gabe had been a special worry for Juan. Gabe didn't take to strangers much. In fact there were often times Juan was the only one who could calm Gabe down.

If his family wanted to get out of poverty however Juan knew this opportunity was their best, possibly only, chance. That realization had proven decisive. Thus here he was alone in a strange city.

"Hope I'm doing what's right bro." Juan said slinging one of his travel bags over his right shoulder the other he pulled behind him. He took a deep breath then added with a glint in his golden eyes, one of his most distinctive features. "Lock up your daughters San Francisco Blaze has arrived, have mercy!"

Presidio Heights

"Why mother simply tell me why!?" Felicia Hardy cried. She jumped on her queen sized bed and kicked her legs in the air looking for the entire world like a spoiled child. She continued after a highly embellished sigh. "I'm only seventeen! Can't I start school next year see the world instead, maybe tour Europe!? France is lovely this time of year." She brightened at the thought of the Rivera's sunny beaches beckoning her.

"You'll be eighteen in October." Lydia Hardy said. "I promised your poor father before he passed you'd receive the finest education money could buy. I'll be damned if break my promise."

Felicia's physical appearance favored that of her mother. Both Hardy women had shoulder length platinum blond hair and sparkling pale blue eyes along with figures that would make most women swoon with jealousy. The only visible difference was Lydia's face showed a few fine lines from age minor blemishes her youthful daughter lacked. They were each clad in a sheer designer night dress. Felicia's was pink while her mother's was powder blue.

"But, but mother…" Felicia began to renew her protest.

"No buts young lady." Lydia said sternly. "You have no idea what sort of strings I had to pull to get you admitted into Stanford University with your dismal high school record. You are going and that is final."

"I refuse to go." Felicia huffed turning up her nose at the mere suggestion. Sitting up she crossed her arms over her chest and screwed up her face into an expression of pure petulance.

Lydia's lips twitched with anger. "Fine no school no more money." She declared. "Or have you forgotten dear until you turned twenty-one I exercise control over your trust fund?"

"You wouldn't dare!" Felicia said wide eyed.

"Try me." Lydia said crossing her own arms over her chest.

"This isn't fair!" Felicia said.

"I know. The car will be waiting around front at eight tomorrow sharp be ready." Lydia said. "Another thing don't bother trying to have Henderson drop you off elsewhere. He is under strict orders to ignore any such requests."

Lydia turned away. She left her daughter's room. A fluffy pillow expertly aimed at her head narrowly missed its target.

China Town the next day, morning

Internationally renowned philanthropist Martin Li stood gazing out the window in his luxurious office on top of the exclusive commercial skyscraper that bore his name. Li Tower was a unique recently added feature of the San Francisco skyline. While in outward appearance it was modeled after a classical Chinese pagoda inside it was thoroughly modern. If only the fools who constantly sang his praises knew how he had financed its construction Martin Li thought a smirk forming on his face.

Martin Li wore a pristine white business suit with black buttons a matching white tie, white shoes, black socks and black undershirt. His black hair was cut short and his skin was slightly tanned.

Martin Li had a dark side. One he kept hidden from almost everyone. True his charities fed, settled and clothed millions including thousands in San Francisco alone. What all but a select few were unware however was the primary source of his boundless billions. Martin Li was the ruthless criminal mastermind and supervillain Mr. Negative. Perhaps the most lucrative transnational criminal enterprise controlled directly by Mr. Negative was the trade in a highly addictive street level drug dubbed Dusk. What set Dusk apart from other substances like heroin or cocaine was its side-effects. Not only did Dusk provided the user with an intense hours long sense of euphoria along with vivid dream like hallucinations, the source of its common name, it also caused temporary superhuman abilities to manifest in concert with said high. Little wonder the production method behind Dusk was a closely guarded secret. Only a few people knew exactly what ingredients went into making Dusk. Mr. Negative in light of being the sole producer of the potent substance was one such person.

"If they only knew," Martin Li said. He snickered thinking of Dusk's secret key ingredient and how users, the public, the media and the authorities along with his various criminal "allies", such as the Maggia Syndicate, would react if they ever discovered the terrible truth. "It is Fortunate they never shall." He added upon second thought. The last thing he needed was consumer resistance to his chief product. That would not do at all especially when he currently faced other pressing problems that required his undivided attention.

Somehow Martin Li knew Mr. Negative should soon dispatch his latest challenger. A gargantuan bald man from the East Coast named Walter Wilson Fisk who was going by the self-aggrandizing moniker "Kingpin". Fisk had bought out Li's major competitors, the miserable cowards. Li and Fisk theoretically each controlled roughly half of San Francisco's underworld. While on paper their matchup seemed equal in was in fact anything but. The assets controlled by Fisk were paltry in monetary value compared to those under Li's jurisdiction. Li calculated in would be many months or even years before Fisk's operation posed a true threat to his own.

"Best not take any chance," Martin Li said sagely.

Li would at once make preparations to have the upstart Fisk eliminated without getting his hands dirty, which was his preferred method of operation. Soon he'd restore balance and then life would once again be perfect, for Mr. Negative anyway. The fate of his enemies matter not so long as they were swept away in a timely fashion with minimum waste of precious resources.

Waste not want not was his motto. It had served him well since escaping from Communist China ten short years ago. Once he'd arrived in American he had ascended the ladder of criminal success with startling speed. There were times when he had trouble believing he had ever once been a mere low ranking member of the Triads, a cruel taskmaster serving on a ship smuggling migrants primarily from Southeast Asia to Western North America. Granted an advantageous development had occurred near the end of the last doomed trip of that vessel one which had greatly assisted his meteoric rise. Exposure to something utterly extraordinary that had fundamentally altered his destiny, something that would once he had murdered those in control of it, in a highly deluded and modified version, eventually become the secret ingredient of Dusk.

Martin Li again laughed only this time much louder. "If they only knew indeed," He said taking delight in his private perverse joke.

To Be Continued